I tore myself away from the kitten and the laser pointer to come do my homework, but find myself here in the blogosphere - via the kitchen table - instead. Despite the chocolate in my hand and cat on my lap, I'm not procrastinating, but planning to delve further into my assignment. For our unit on creative non-fiction I was tasked with reading David Sedaris' essay, "Repeat After Me," and not only does his writing turn my head but particular passages on family dynamics resonate in my post-lunch gut.
The essay is set at the home of Sedaris' oldest sister, Lisa, who has enjoyed a series of careers after surprisingly dropping out of college. He writes:
"As children, we'd been assigned certain roles - leader, bum, troublemaker, slut - titles that effectively told us who we were. Since Lisa was the oldest, smartest and bossiest, it was assumed that she would shoot to the top of her field, earning a master's degree in manipulation and eventually taking over a medium-sized country. We'd always known her as an authority figure, and while we took a certain joy in watching her fall, it was disorienting to see her with so little confidence." ("Repeat After Me," David Sedaris, reprinted in
Touchstone Anthology of Contemporary Creative Nonfiction)
Ouch. As the oldest, not - so - smartest but definitely bossiest member of my family, and one who recently had a huge crash in the health / status / prestige department, this passage rang my bell. I'm pretty sure that the roles in my family don't include bum or slut, and I don't know if my four siblings took any joy in my downfall, but I did see their dis-orientation when I was around, and Sedaris' insight helps explain a certain level of discomfort (both on my part and theirs) that extends to the present day. Here's another sentence that echoes our subconscious worry on the subject, "If the oldest wasn't who she was supposed to be, then what did it mean for the rest of us?"
I don't think I am who I was "supposed to be," and I haven't taken a poll but I doubt that either my high school classmates or my siblings projected my current position as stay-at-home mom of three and swim instructor / writing student. It doesn't matter as long as each of us feels content with our situation, but any attempt to rework the powerful settings of childhood creates discomfort for all concerned. As Sedaris said "having him (me) around forces her to think about things she'd rather not, which is essentially what family members do, at least the family members my sister and I know." Genius. He ends with a poignant tribute to his sister and how much he loves her, so I'll do the same. I love all of you bums, trouble-makers and smart-alecs, and even if we're uneasily wrestling with identity for the rest of our lives I'm glad we're on the same squad.